An Unexpected Connection
by LumosLyra
Summary: Draco and Hermione magically correspond anonymously via an enchanted parchment, confessing their hopes, dreams, and fears to one another starting in their fifth year. A short multi-chapter that was expanded from my one-shot "Anonymity."
1. Chapter 1

**An Unexpected Connection**

 **Synopsis** : Draco and Hermione magically correspond anonymously via an enchanted parchment, confessing their hopes, dreams, and fears to one another starting in their fifth year. A short multi-chapter that was expanded from my one-shot "Anonymity."

 **A/N:** Standard disclaimers apply. I hope you enjoy! Feedback, favorites, and follows welcome! This first chapter will detail Draco's perspective of the events while chapter two will delve into Hermione's perspective. From there we might see one or two more chapters and then an epilogue. Any chapters beyond the first two will likely be significantly shorter than the nearly 10,000 word monstrosities that chapters one and two are. Hermione's perspective (chapter 2) will be up in a few days.

….

Draco Malfoy, only son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, heir to the Malfoy estate, fifth year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, pureblood, and all around red-blooded Slytherin male rolled the quill around in his fingertips with a distinct look of concentration and curiosity. He had purchased the parchment in secret on a trip to Diagon Alley to purchase school supplies for his fifth year at Hogwarts. How he had snuck it past his parents that day, he never knew. It had sat discarded in his trunk for the better part of several weeks when curiosity suddenly got the better of him on a particularly boring Saturday morning. He dipped his quill in enchanted ink and set about putting words down onto the novelty parchment.

 _ **Hello.**_

It seemed like an adequate way to start. It was how one typically began a conversation or an interaction, so why shouldn't he try it out on the parchment? The parchment grew warm under his hand and pulsed as another word took life on the page.

 _ **Hi.**_

Well, this was already turning out to be a riveting conversation, "hello" and "hi". The awkwardness was nauseating and Draco was tempted to push the paper away from him when a sentence appeared, capturing his attention once more.

 _ **How are you?**_

How does one respond to such a mundane question? What does that kind of question even mean? Should he answer truthfully or was it simply an obligatory question? He opted to go with the former and give a truthful response.

 _ **I am quite well, term started not that long ago. How are you?**_

He sincerely hoped that whoever was on the other end of this two-way parchment knew what "term" meant without him needing to clarify. Then again, if the person on the other side didn't understand, they probably weren't worth associating with given a lack of intelligence.

 _ **Much the same. What is your name?**_

Oh good. They understood which meant they were likely a student. He strongly hoped the person on the other end wasn't an adult.

Back to the question of his name. He knew he could've give his real name to whoever was on the other side, so Draco waved his wand over the book on Greek mythology he had been reading, the pages fluttering until they settled on the pre-Heraclean hero, Cadmus, founder and king of Thebes, the first Greek hero, and slayer of dragons. Draco wasn't certain why _Cadmus_ had stuck with him. Perhaps it was simply because he was a hero and his mythology encompassed serpents, dragons, and blazing heroism or perhaps it was because he was frightened of his own monsters and demons and was desperate in some corner of his soul to drive them off.

 _ **Cadmus.**_

 _ **I'm Lyra.**_

Lyra. His own constellation Draco, from where his name was derived, bordered the Lyra constellation to the north. In mythology, Lyra was said to represent the lyre of Orpheus and then when played could charm everything from Gods to people to the very earth itself. He wondered if the choice was intentional, or if she had simply thought the name sounded pretty. He decided to find out.

" _ **Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them." – Cadmus**_

He wondered if she would understand the quote or simply interpret it as non-sense. He fully expected the latter, but a smile spread across his lips at her response.

" _ **I know that I am mortal by nature, and ephemeral; but when I trace my pleasure the windings to and fro of the heavenly bodies I no longer touch the earth with my feet: I stand in the presence of Zeus himself and take my fill of ambrosia." – Lyra**_

She not only understood, but she completely blew any expectations he had out of the water.

 _ **Ptolemy. I'm impressed. - Cadmus**_

 _ **You quoted Marcus Aurelius. It seemed fitting. How old are you? – Lyra**_

Again, Draco found himself in awe of the person on the other size of the parchment. She not only understood his reference but also knew who had made the reference. But then, she had asked for his age. What if she was much older than him? He decided that it was important to be honest in case he needed to end this quickly.

 _ **Fifteen. – Cadmus**_

 _ **Same. Which school do you attend? – Lyra**_

He breathed a sigh of relief when she indicated they were the same age. This only served to make her seem more impressive with her knowledge. Of course, she had to ask what school was attending. Draco wasn't certain why he did it, but he decided in that moment to conceal the truth.

 _ **Durmstrang. Mum wanted me to attend Hogwarts, but Dad won out eventually. You? – Cadmus**_

It was only a partial lie, except that his mother had won out of his father. If there was anything that Narcissa Malfoy could be, it was highly persuasive.

 _ **Beauxbatons. – Lyra**_

"Damnit." he swore, aloud. Draco found himself desperately hoping she attended Hogwarts even though their conversation had lasted no more than five minutes. If she had attended Hogwarts he could've found the captivating witch and spoken with her face-to-face. He suddenly found himself intensely curious about the witch on the other side of the parchment, especially because he was unable to see her. He had never really had a conversation before with someone he was unable to see.

 _ **What do you look like? – Cadmus**_

 _ **I'm rather petite with brown hair, brown eyes. Nothing special. – Lyra**_

Draco frowned at the minimalist description of herself as it certainly wasn't much to go on when he tried to imagine her. He frowned even deeper when he saw that she had called herself "nothing special." Could she not see her own brilliance?

" _ **Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears." Anyone who can quote great scholars and philosophers on a whim seems rather special. – Cadmus**_

" _ **I'm trying to think, don't confuse me with facts." – Lyra**_

With that, Draco could almost hear her laughter and see the smirk on her face as she quoted Plato. He attempted to conjure an image of her in his mind. Even with the limited information she had provided, she was beyond lovely.

….

 _ **Lyra, are you around? I need to talk to you about something.**_ _**– Cadmus**_

Draco wrung his hands, waiting for her to reply. He needed her to reply because he wasn't certain he would have the courage to say what he needed to say if he waited much longer. His life had never been a charmed one, but it was beginning to go down-hill much faster than he could've imagined following the resurgence of the Dark Lord.

 _ **I'm here. Is everything okay? – Lyra**_

He breathed a sigh of relief at her fast response and gathered his courage, pressing his quill to the parchment.

 _ **Not really. But I need to tell someone and you're the only one I can confide in, right now. – Cadmus**_

 _ **Talk to me. – Lyra**_

 _ **I must pretend to be something I am not in fear of my own life and the lives of my family. I come from a long line of pure-blooded wizards and my parents have fallen under the spell of Y-K-W and the vitriol he spews about muggle-borns. I used to believe it simply because it was how I was raised but I can't say that I support it any more. I'm afraid that before too long, I will be made to take the mark and do all that is required of one in that position. If I run or try and go against them, they will kill me and all those I love. - Cadmus**_

Draco pulled his fingertips through his hair, waiting with baited breath for her response, fully anticipating she would reject him following his confession. He wasn't certain he could bear her rejection were it to come to pass, but he needed to tell someone and Lyra was the only one who might understand. She was the only one who might not judge him based on the sins of his parents and his lineage. He would, of course, continue to play the part of the perfect pure-blood, hater of muggle-borns if his worst nightmare was to come to pass. He had a reputation to uphold no matter how much he loathed himself for the things he did and what he said. He didn't have a choice in the matter. His family was simply in too deep.

" _ **He had two lives: one open, seen and known by all who cared to know, full of relative truth and of relative falsehood, exactly like the lives of his friends and acquaintances; and another life running its course in secret. And through some strange, perhaps accidental, conjunction of circumstances, everything that was essential, of interest, and of value to him, everything in which he was sincere and did not deceive himself, everything that made the kernel of his life, was hidden from other people." – Lyra**_

Of course, she would know the perfect quote, this time pulling from Chekov. She always knew exactly what to say. He had never met anyone as well read as her. Her brilliance shone like the light of a thousand stars and he frequently found himself in awe of her.

 _ **You must do what you must in order to survive, Cadmus. "Man is what he believes." – Lyra**_

He thought about survival more than he cared to admit these days. It had been nearly a year since he had been confiding and speaking with Lyra about anything and everything. He was desperate for an escape and sometimes his conversations with her through this two-way parchment was his only way to push aside the life he was living and simply be himself.

 _ **I certainly don't believe in the rhetoric the DE's desperately cling to, but I'm forced to play along with it. I'm forced to be uncaring and cruel and it's slowly killing me, Lyra." - Cadmus**_

" _ **Confront the darkest parts of yourself and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing." You have to survive, Cadmus, for me if not for yourself. It's never too late to turn to the light. – Lyra**_

" _ **My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes." - Cadmus**_

 _ **I've already been forced to do some terrible things. One of the smartest witches I know is a muggle-born and while she grates on my nerves in other ways, it eats at my soul when I have to make threats against her in order to save face.– Cadmus**_

 _ **I'm muggle-born, as well. – Lyra**_

This revelation made Draco's stomach drop out of his abdomen with worry. He knew what the Dark Lord had in store for muggle-borns and blood-traitors alike and he wanted no part in it. What if something happened to Lyra? He couldn't let that thought invade his mind, right now. She was his only link to sanity.

 _ **And you're absolutely brilliant which just goes to show that those who follow Y-K-W are off their rockers. It is in these precious moments that I can steal away and just be myself, I feel whole when I'm talking to you. – Cadmus**_

" _ **To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." - Lyra**_

Draco released the breath he had been holding with a sigh and calmness flooded his body. He wanted nothing more than to simply be himself, not the mask of the boy he had conjured for so many years.

 _ **How is it you always know exactly what to say? - Cadmus**_

" _ **What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies." - Lyra**_

Draco smiled contentedly his thoughts drifting to the image of her he had conjured in his mind. While he could never picture her face, her presence and her soul were breathtaking. "I think it might be more…" he murmured to himself, not daring to bear that part of his soul to her. At least, not yet. For now, he was simply grateful to have a friend.

….

Draco was thoroughly grateful that Lyra would be unable to see the teardrops littering the parchment as he wrote to her, his forearm burning with a fire that had yet to extinguish. He wasn't certain if he was crying due to the pain, the loss of himself, or what he knew was sure to come.

" _ **Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers, but to be fearless in facing them. Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but for the heart to conquer it." – Cadmus**_

 _ **They made you take the mark. – Lyra**_

 _ **I had no choice. – Cadmus**_

And he really didn't. His family had gotten far too involved to be able to back out now. The Dark Lord wanted Draco as a way to punish Lucius for failing in his own task and no one resisted the will of the Dark Lord. When he made it a point to bend someone to his will, one either went willingly or suffered a fate worse than death.

 _ **I know. "Some of the greatest battles will be fought within the silent chambers of your own soul." – Lyra**_

At any time when he had confided in her, she always saw the best in him and consistently offered optimism when his life was nothing but darkness. She was the light, the stars, the sun. She knew him better than he knew himself, at times.

 _ **You know me too well, Lyra. – Cadmus**_

" _ **Let my soul smile through my heart and my heart smile through my eyes that I may scatter rich smiles in sad hearts." - Lyra**_

….

 _ **I'm on the run and won't be able to keep in touch, for now. – Lyra**_

As the words spread across the parchment, he felt his heart clench in agony and his stomach twist into uncomfortable knots. It was exactly as he feared, his brilliant muggle-born witch was fleeing for her own life. Well, she wasn't _his_ per se, but his feelings for her went beyond simple friendship, that much he knew. He cared for her deeply – likely more than he cared for anyone or anything else. She was his best friend and his confidant and he had never even seen her face nor did he know her real name. He was grateful for that. At the very least, the Dark Lord wouldn't be able to use it against him if he was ever subjected to legilimency.

" _ **Do not be afraid, our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift." Please stay safe out there. You don't seem like the type who would do something foolish, but I need you to come out of this alive, Lyra. – Cadmus**_

" _ **There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me." I will do what I can to keep myself safe as long as you promise to do the same. I need to know you're safe so I can do what I have to do. – Lyra**_

Draco knew very well that he couldn't offer a full-fledged promise, but if it was what she needed, he would give it to her. He wouldn't put himself in any dangerous situations on purpose, but given that the Dark Lord was occupying his home, he hadn't much choice in the matter.

 _ **I promise. – Cadmus**_

 _ **If you haven't heard there's a taboo on Y-K-W's name, don't say it aloud or the Snatchers will find you. - Cadmus**_

 _ **I'll see you on the other side of this war. – Lyra**_

" _ **Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come whispering 'it will be happier…'" On the other side, Lyra. – Cadmus.**_

If only he could make himself believe what he was telling her.

….

Draco Malfoy had spent two excruciating weeks in Azkaban following the end of the war while waiting for his trial to commence. Given the testimony of what he assumed were several unknown persons, he was miraculously cleared of all charges against him. It had been determined he was simply a product of his circumstances and that the actions he had taken during the war were due to his will to survive and the threats made against his family. He certainly had a firm sense of self-preservation and had honored his promise to Lyra to come out of the war relatively unscathed, though he wasn't certain how he had managed it. His parents had not been so lucky. His father, Lucius Malfoy, had been sentenced to life imprisonment while his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, had received no less than five years with a chance of parole after three. Draco struggled with the fact that he would not be able to see his mother for several years, especially knowing how difficult Azkaban would be for her. His father could rot in the pit of Hades, for all he cared.

He knew that the world would likely not be kind to him, following his trial given the circumstances which occurred during his sixth year and all that had happened when he was supposed to be attending his seventh year. He was, after all, marked as a Death Eater and it was the mark that everyone would see; not to mention his family name was tainted with the sins of his father. They wouldn't see the lost boy beneath it all who was just trying to find his own way in the world.

The only stipulation attached to his release was that he return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to complete his education. After passing his N.E.W.T.s, he would be allowed to do as he pleased. While the Ministry was carrying out investigations of several artefacts discovered at Malfoy Manor, his family assets had surprisingly not been seized. He was still the heir to the Malfoy fortune and had the world as his disposal, however lonely it was proving to be.

The moment he returned to the Manor, he knew exactly what he had to do. He hadn't had time to write to her before his brief stint in Azkaban, but he desperately needed to know if she had made it out.

 _ **Lyra, if you've made it out this mess alive, I wanted to let you know that I survived, despite everyone's efforts. - Cadmus**_

The ink seeped into the parchment curling into an elegant script before disappearing before his eyes. Given the turmoil caused by the war and the part he had played in it, it had been nearly a year since he had received any messages from her. She was never far from his thoughts, but his lack of correspondence with her made the ache greater than he had anticipated it would be. In their last conversation, she had confided in him that she was going on the run and he knew just how dangerous it would be for muggle-borns especially while the Dark Lord was still in power.

He felt the characteristic pulse of the parchment beneath his palm as crimson ink spread across the parchment forming her words. She had replied. She was alive. The breath he had been holding suddenly released and he felt relief wash over him.

" _ **When I despair, I remember that all through history the ways of truth and love have always won." – Lyra**_

Draco smiled, noting the quotation she had choose and finished the line which Gandhi had spoken with relative ease.

" _ **There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it – always." – Cadmus**_

 _ **Were you able to finish school? – Lyra**_

 _ **No. I will be going back to finish this year. But I have a confession to make. I lied to you all of those years ago. I never attended Durmstrang. I attended Hogwarts." – Cadmus**_

He hoped she wouldn't be cross with him over that little white lie from when he was fifteen. He wasn't too keen on giving out information about himself given that he barely knew her then.

 _ **We must have passed one another in the corridors a thousand times, never knowing. – Lyra**_

Draco stared at the words for several moments before they fully disappeared from the page. His eyes grew wide with the possibilities. Did that mean what he thought it meant?

 _ **But, you said you attended Beauxbatons. – Cadmus**_

 _ **I know. I lied. – Lyra**_

Oh, sweet baby dragons. She had been right under his nose for years and he had been oblivious. What if he knew her? What house would she be in? Oh that was a stupid question, she was probably a Ravenclaw given how utterly brilliant she was. His heart leapt at the possibilities.

 _ **Will you be going back? – Cadmus**_

"Please, please, please, please let her say yes." Draco whispered to himself in the silence of his room while waiting for her reply.

 _ **I will. "Learning is not attainted by chance, tt must be sought for with ardor and attended to with diligence." – Lyra**_

Draco pumped his fists into the air in triumph. She was going back to Hogwarts which was exactly where he was headed in just a few short weeks. He could see her, speak to her, confide in her, tell her how much she meant to him if only she would give him the chance.

" _ **Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all." - Cadmus**_

Draco turned the parchment over and tucked his quill and ink away, hoping she would understand the significance of his last reply. He slipped beneath his emerald sheets and with a murmured _nox_ , his room was enveloped in a serene darkness. He closed his eyes and drifted into the tumultuous abyss known as sleep, dreaming of a woman he had never met but who filled his own heart with her song. How often had he seen her? Spoken to her? Who was she?

….

Draco stepped through the barrier from Kings Cross and onto Platform 9 and ¾ where he gazed upon the familiar outline of the Hogwarts Express, the train he hoped would carry him to his destiny and possibly to Lyra. He purposely arrived to the platform early to avoid the crowd knowing that his presence wouldn't be welcome given his family's involvement in the war. Draco simply wanted to keep his head down, complete his studies, and move on with his life as so many others in the wizarding world were trying to do.

Tucking his trunk away, Draco slipped into an empty compartment and pulled out the two way parchment which connected him with the only light in his life. He stared at the piece of parchment in his hands, resting his head against the wall of the compartment.

" _ **The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those at are absurd. The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world's existence. All these half-tones of the souls' consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are." – Cadmus**_

Draco wasn't certain what had made him choose that particular notion by the Portuguese poet, Fernando Pessoa, but it firmly encompassed how he was feeling. He longed to go back to the time before he had been branded as a follower of You-Know-Who. He desired a path of _what could have been_ , had his father not succumbed to the Dark Lord's will and entangled his family in the web of lies created by Voldemort and his followers. Not to mention, he was thoroughly dissatisfied with his life and world. The sunset of his own future was looming and he wasn't quite ready to see what happened when the sun sank lower than the horizon. Would it be a peaceful night with a sprinkling of stars or a frantic, cloudy existence where the stars were hidden just beyond reach?

Muggle-Born, Half-Blood, Pureblood, what did that rhetoric matter now? Draco closed his eyes, aching to feel the parchment pulse with her reply, especially knowing she was only a few compartments away from him.

Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini entered the compartment together not long after Draco had tucked the parchment back into the safety of his school robes. If the looks on their faces were any indication, this would be a solemn year for those in Slytherin given that many of their parents were also involved with Voldemort.

What was it he had said to Lyra when the war started? It was something about old men starting the wars and leaving the younger generation to fight them. They were all broken in their own ways, no matter on which side they fought.

….

The sorting had been relatively uneventful and before he knew it, Draco was back in his familiar dormitory in the Slytherin dungeons. He unpacked swiftly and was now laying silently in his bed, his hands resting behind his head, thought swimming through his mind at a rapid rate. He looked over at the parchment beside him. The ink had long since disappeared from the parchment, but the message had remained with him.

" _ **Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all." - Lyra**_

He closed his eyes, _hope_. Of course, she would respond to him with something about _hope_. If he had learned anything from their conversations it was that she was a persistent optimist, always convinced of the good in others. He searched his soul, trying to find any ounce of good within him after everything he had been through over the past year. Finding himself sorely wanting, Draco turned over and grasped his pillow, settling in for another night of tenuous sleep.

With any luck, her essence would invade his dreams and calm the turbulent nightmares which kept him awake most nights.

….

Draco turned the small velvet box over in his hands before tucking it safely behind a dusty copy of _De Gradibus Maledictio_ in the Restricted Section of the Library. He didn't know where he had mustered the courage, but he had written to the family jeweler and had commissioned a necklace for _her._ Sitting at the base of a thin golden chain, was a delicate golden lyre with a single emerald set into the base. It was simple, yet perfect and he hoped he captured her spirit within it. Before depositing the necklace behind the ancient tome, Draco had left a handwritten note in the velvet box: " _After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music. - Cadmus"_

If anyone would understand it, it would be Lyra. Pulling out the enchanted parchment and ink, he left her a note and made for the exit of the library before he completely lost his nerve and retrieved the small velvet box.

 _ **I've left you something behind a very dusty copy of De Gradibus Maledicto in the restricted section of the library. – Cadmus**_

He added the next part because he knew that they had never spoken about meeting face to face, even though they both knew they walked the halls of the ancient castle. It was entirely possible they might share classes together, but neither had gathered the courage to introduce the idea to the other.

" _ **I'll be at the Quidditch pitch this afternoon if you're worried that I might be watching when you go to find it. – Cadmus**_

He fully expected some sort of reply detailing the fact that she couldn't possibly accept his gift, but it never came. He tucked his hands into his pockets and headed out towards the pitch. He wasn't playing this season, eighth years were barred, but he could at least guide the current team to a hopeful victory in their next match against Ravenclaw.

They were several weeks into the fall term and the change of the season from summer to autumn was noticeable everywhere. The trees were turning from a brilliant green to a sea of dusty orange and brown which rustled like a melancholy music when the wind blew. The air was growing cooler, but the smell of the earth remained fresh at the changing of the seasons. It was one of Draco's favorites times of the year. Draco walked across the grounds towards the Quidditch pitch, shuffling his feet and idly kicking leaves, his thoughts elsewhere. Before he knew it, he had collided with a small, warm figure with tousled curls and a wide-eyed expression who was now a tangle of limbs opposite him on the path to the pitch. Clearly, her mind must've also been somewhere else because their collison had knocked them both to the ground.

"Damnit, Granger. Watch where you're going." He said with a mild sneer of irritation. Standing up from the pathway, he brushed the dirt from his trousers and jumper, before offering her his hand. The look of surprise on her face was enough to elicit a smirk; there was nothing more that he loved than pushing Granger's button's.

She took his hand and stood up, brushing off her skirt. "Thank you".

"I'm sorry for running into you, Malfoy. I was in a hurry to get to the library and wasn't paying attention to where I was walking." She said, picking up the two books she had dropped on the ground and arranging them carefully in her arms. Draco noted one of them by was Thoreau, the other by Austen. He was honestly a bit surprised to see that they weren't textbooks given the amount he knew she studied.

"Don't worry about it." He mumbled, turning to continue toward the pitch where he knew the Slytherin team was practicing today.

"Malfoy, I…" she started. She sounded hesitant as though she as nervous about something. He breathed an agitated sigh and turned around to face her.

"Granger, just go…" He said turning around once more to continue on his way, with the hope that she would do just that. But of course, she was Hermione Granger and she had to say whatever it was that was on her mind.

"I'm-sorry-about-your-parents-and-I'm-glad-you-didn't-get-sent-to-Azkaban. Thank-you-for-what-you-did-for-us-at-the-Manor." she blurted out so quickly, he almost didn't understand her words. It wasn't like Granger to be this flustered about anything. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned around, staring down the witch before him. All of this shifting back and forth was beginning to make him dizzy. She was exactly as he remembered. Her tousled chestnut curls were out of control, her brown eyes were bright with the spark of intelligence and passion, and tiny freckles dotted her blushed cheeks. She wore as set of standard black robes over a neatly pressed uniform and of course, she was holding books.

Draco took another look at the books in her hand before staring straight into her brown orbs. "Make the most of your regrets: never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it 'til it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh." He replied calmly and turned on his heels, leaving Hermione's mouth agape.

….

The pitch was buzzing with activity from the members of the Slytherin Quidditch team as they flew in formation above the soft grass beneath them. Draco had discarded his school uniform for a pair of track pants and a simple jersey and was perched on his broom, watching as the team ran various flight drills. Soon, they would pull out the quaffle, bludgers, and golden snitch and they would take up their position and run a few more drills.

"Oi! Greengrass, watch where you're going!" He called out, watching as chaser Astoria Greengrass nearly collided with beater Andrew Vaisey mid-flight. She quickly rolled away to avoid the collision, but it was still too close for Draco's taste. It was probably Vaisey's fault, but Greengrass needed to pay a bit more attention to where she was going. If his suspicions were correct, she was making disgusting lovey-dovey eyes to Theodore Nott who sat perched in the stands with a book in his lap, pretending to study as he did every Quidditch practice. Really, they weren't fooling anyone.

He felt the pulse of the parchment concealed within the pocket of his track pants and took his eyes off of the team momentarily to see what her response might be.

" _ **Music should strike fire from the heart of man, and bring tears from the eyes of woman." I will cherish it, always. Thank you.**_ **–** _ **Lyra**_

Draco felt a heat rise to his cheeks and a flush of warmth overtake his body as her words sunk into his core. He carefully refolded the parchment, tucking it back into his pocket, and gazed across the landscape which had never looked quite so beautiful. There was something about her words which always brought a glimmer of hope to the surface. It was something to which he found himself clinging desperately. It was something he needed, _she_ was something he needed.

….

Draco spent the next several weeks idly glancing at the neck of every female he passed, attempting to get a glimpse of who she might be, but his efforts had failed thus far. He hadn't seen once hint of the necklace he had sent her. If she was even wearing it at all, she was taking great pains to conceal it. He idly wondered if she had told the truth about her appearance, all those years ago. Petite, brown hair, brown eyes. Of course, that seemed to be half of the population of Hogwarts which made narrowing her down all the more difficult. He ducked into an empty classroom after feeling the parchment pulsing in his pocket.

 _ **How are your studies, going? – Lyra**_

 _ **Well, enough. High marks, for the most part. Yours? – Cadmus**_

 _ **Fairly well. I'm expecting to pass my N.E.W.T.s, but there's always more studying to be done to be certain. Sometimes catch myself wondering if you're in the library when I'm studying. – Lyra**_

Lyra had never made such an explicit statement before, but then again, they mostly spoke in riddles, proverbs, and flowery quotations with hidden meanings and subtle connotations. It was just how they were and it was all Draco's fault, he had started it after all.

Draco idly wondered if she was a Ravenclaw given her propensity for wit and knowledge. He was fairly certain she wasn't in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. The only person he knew of in Gryffindor who would've been able to match him so perfectly on an intellectual level would have been Granger and the thought of that was just absurd. There was no way after fighting in a war and studying for examinations that Granger would do something like use a two-way parchment to communicate with a random person. She was much too sensible for that. The only Hufflepuff he knew who was well read was Ernie MacMillian and if he was being played by that tosser he would find himself lacking a certain body part necessary for procreation.

" _ **He who lives in our mind is near though he may actually be far away; but he who is not in our heart is far though he may really be nearby." – Cadmus**_

It really was possible they had been in the library at the same time. He spent a bit of time in there away from the hustle and bustle of the Slytherin common room.

" _ **Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye." – Lyra**_

Did she mean that how he interpreted it? He silently cursed himself for starting this tradition of how they communicated. It was utterly infuriating, at times and he was finding more and more he wanted to be done with the riddles. He wanted her, to see her, to know her, to just simply be in her presence. He knew the chances of her reciprocating anything once she found out who he was were slim, but he needed to try.

 _ **I need to see you. Please, Lyra. – Cadmus**_

The silence lasted for longer than expected and to him, it was beyond deafening as she stood motionless in the empty classroom. Draco could feel the tick of the clock on the wall, the pounding of his heart in his chest, the ring of anticipation in his ears waiting for her response, any response. He wrung his hands together until her words began to flow across the parchment.

 _ **I'm not ready. I will be one day, but not today. – Lyra**_

His heart fell and he leaned against the door in defeat. He knew the chance was slim, but at least he had put it out there and he had been hit with temporary rejection, not just full out rejection.

" _ **For it was not into my ear you whispered but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul." – Cadmus**_

 _ **I know. - Lyra**_

Draco cradled his head in his hands, sliding down the frame of the door to the floor. She was in his head, in his dreams, in his heart. She listened every time he needed to talk. She was kind no matter what he said to her, no matter what darkness he confided in her. She was intelligent and witty when their conversations were more lighthearted. She was _everything_ , she was it, and yet he wasn't even certain she was real. For his own sanity, he desperately needed to find her.

….

The wind was starting to get that biting chill to it that signaled the end of autumn and the beginning of winter. Snow flurries had been starting and the Christmas holidays would be upon them in only a few short weeks. Draco sat in the in the library near the fire, thumbing through a novel, attempting to concentrate on the words marring the page without much success. His mind was on the announcement that Professor McGonagall had made that day. The Headmistress of Hogwarts announced that in the spirit of inter-house unity a Yuletide ball would be held during the week prior to the Christmas holidays.

His search for Lyra had proven completely futile over the past several weeks and neither of them had mentioned meeting in person again. This ball would be an opportunity to meet and he certainly didn't want to take anyone else, though several members of his own house had been dropping hints left and right. She might very well reject him again, but he had to take the chance.

" _ **It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves." Will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the ball, Lyra?" – Cadmus**_

Draco was not a patient man and the silence that lasted between his question and her response seemed eternal. He stared at the parchment tucked in the pages of his book for what seemed like hours (when it reality it was closer to a few moments), before her words began to flit across the page and he felt the parchment pulse.

" _ **This one night we will be mad – dance lightly – raise our hearts as the beat strengthens, grows buoyant – careless, defiant. What matters anything so long as one's step is in time – so long as one's whole body and mind are dancing too – what shall end it?" – Lyra**_

It took all of the strength Draco could muster to not jump out of his chair by the fire place in the library and pump his fists in the air upon reading her response. His stormy eyes thundered with triumph as swiftly exited the library, completely missing the flush of Hermione's skin as he passed her, and the delicate lyre pendant pressed between her fingertips.

….

" _ **Yours is the light by which my spirit is born: you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars." – Lyra**_

Draco felt like he had read the text one thousand times over before the words finally faded from the parchment. How could one simple sentence elicit the myriad of emotions that were currently flickering through him? Blissful, petrified, anxious, and elated were just a few of the adjectives that came to mind as her words echoed within his mind.

" _ **If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk through my garden forever." – Cadmus**_

"So, she said yes?" Pansy smiled, resting her hand on Draco's shoulder, reading the words as they faded. Draco had confided in her several weeks ago after she had caught him in one of his exchanges with Lyra. She had even gone so far as to keep an eye out for whoever it might be, but neither of them had any success.

Draco nodded, giving the hand on his shoulder a friendly squeeze with his own before folding the parchment and tucking it into his robes. "She did."

"Any idea who she is yet?"

Draco chuckled and shook his head, "Absolutely none." "I know very little about her personal life compared to how much I know about everything else that represents her. She's highly intelligent, that much is for certain."

Pansy laughed, a sly smirk spreading across her pouty lips an idea surging to the front of her mind that she simply couldn't hold back. "What if it's Granger?" She asked. "That insufferable know-it-all is smarter everyone else in this wretched place. If the Prophet isn't praising Gryffindor's precious princess for being a war hero, she's "the brightest witch of her generation." Pansy mocked, making a retching noise.

Draco's brow creased in thought at Pansy's revelation. As much as he hated to admit it, the fact that Lyra could possibly be Hermione Granger suddenly made a lot of sense and it wasn't as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind in the past. He had simply dismissed it earlier thinking it absurd. Lyra and Granger shared many similar qualities given that they were both fervent optimists, fiercely intelligent, and kind to others. What if Lyra was Granger? Rejection was almost certain at that point. While he found Granger to be annoying, she was less so this year with the absence of Potter and Weasley. She seemed somewhat subdued and distracted, probably by her studies or maybe by missing the pair of idiots she called best friends.

"I'm not sure I would mind." He replied quietly.

"What do you mean you wouldn't mind? She's a mudblood, Draco, remember?" Pansy scoffed. Despite all of the growth she had made over the past year, bits and pieces of her previously held prejudices slipped out, no matter how she was working to change them. Her calling Granger a mudblood was likely an automatic response rather than a true reflection of her feelings towards the girl's blood status.

Suddenly, Draco was very offended by Pansy's slip. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to him, his silver eyes daring her to disagree with him. "Do not say that word in my presence again, do you understand me, Parkinson?" he hissed.

Pansy's eyes widened as she found herself nose to nose with her blonde best friend. "I get it, I'm sorry, it just slipped out. Old habits die hard, you know?" She frowned.

Draco released Pansy's wrist and embraced her, exhaling a breath to soothe his own anger. He and Pansy had been friends since before they could speak and he felt a tender, brotherly affection for her. He knew just how hard she had been working to change and he felt bad for snapping at the witch. "I know, Pansy. I'm sorry I snapped."

Pansy rested her head on his shoulder and pulled her arms around her friend. "So, you really wouldn't mind if it's Granger?"

With a sigh, Draco said, "No, I don't think I would. But I still think the chances are incredibly slim that it would be her."

….

Draco made his way down to the courtyard from the Great Hall, slipping into the shadows as he rested his back against a nearby pillar. He cast a warming charm on himself before he tucked his hands into the pockets of his tailored suit, having opted for a more modern style of dress robes. He stared out across the landscape and up towards the stars, quickly picking out his own constellation as well as Lyra's, mulling over the possibilities the night might bring.

They had agreed to meet out here, in the courtyard, just after the first dance, but Draco wanted to make sure he was outside before she came. The cool air was helping to clear his head and calm his nerves and he needed his head to be firmly atop his shoulders when he met Lyra.

Movement to his left caught his eye and a figure gowned in emerald rested her hands upon the ancient stones of an archway. Draco wondered why she had come out here when she should be inside dancing and enjoying the night with the rest of her pride of lions. He stepped out of the shadows and closer to the witch.

"Waiting for someone, Granger?" He asked idly, watching his peers move about the courtyard, waiting for any possible sign of Lyra. He had heard the music strike up just before Granger crossed the courtyard.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Malfoy?" She quipped, keeping her focus on the snowy grounds beyond the archway in which she was standing.

Draco shrugged his shoulders with a smirk, figuring he might as well get a moment of fun in to calm his nerves while waiting for any sign of Lyra. Granger had always been a good sparring partner and maybe a bit of back and forth with her would make him forget that his stomach had taken up permanent residence in his throat. "Anyone's better than Weasley and Potter. It's been so much more pleasant around here without those two buffoons causing havoc every other day."

"Shut it, Malfoy. I could do without your vitriol tonight." Hermione hissed, taking in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly. She was clearly agitated about something, but he pressed anyway.

"C'mon, Granger." He pushed, taking a step towards her. "Who is it? Longbottom? Corner? MacMillan?

As he stepped closer, Draco could just make out that Hermione's dress robes were a stunning shade of green, the color complimenting her complexion in a tantalizing way. They were modest, yet alluring as they hugged her waist and flowed out delicately over the curve of her hips. And what had she done to her hair? Soft curls cascaded down her back with pieces swept back here and there into golden hairpins. He allowed himself the thought that she looked rather lovely, much as she had on the night of the Yule Ball back in their fourth year, and turned his attention back to the open courtyard, waiting for the end of the first waltz and the appearance of the woman he was so desperate to meet.

Hermione shook her head and waved her hand dismissively, though Draco merely heard her words given that his attention was directed elsewhere. "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of…"

"…his and mine are the same." Draco finished quietly as he tore his gaze from the courtyard, letting it fall over the woman in the archment, a realization taking hold inside of him. The conversation he had with Pansy a few days ago flashed inside the quiet of his mind.

" _What if it's Granger?"_

" _I'm not sure I would mind."_

He felt his heart quicken and pound within his chest as he flushed with anticipation and longing. Was this it? He had to know for certain. He took a few tentative steps towards Hermione and placed his hand atop hers, leaning close to her ear, whispering before she had a chance to pull away from him. "I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words which laid the foundation. It is too long ago..."

"…I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun." She finished, her breath barely above a whisper. Her stared into her eyes, watching as every emotion he had been feeling moments before flashed through hers as Hermione Granger and Lyra melded into one person before him.

"You." They breathed in unison. Confirmation. If anyone had asked Hermione and Draco what had happened the moment they both came to the realization of who the other one actually was, they would've said that the world seemed to have stopped spinning in that very moment. Everything simply stopped as though they were the only two people to remain in the world. The cool air crackled with the electricity of their silence as though a lightning bolt had struck nearby.

Draco grasped her hand and pulled her to him, his strong arms encircling her petite frame. He lightly pressed her forehead to hers and closed his eyes, breathing her in, relishing in the feel of her safely within his arms after so many years. "You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever." He pleaded, knowing that she could still very well reject him, but to his surprise, she had yet to pull away.

He felt her lips brush his own as she whispered, "The very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone." He wasn't certain if he pulled her against his chest or if she moved closer on her own, but she was suddenly flush against him as their lips parted in a kiss so gentle and loving, it was more ethereal than real.

When they broke apart, she leaned into him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, resting her head on his chest as her arms encircled his waist. He stroked her back, watching the moonlight and feeling completely content for the first time his life. He had finally found the woman who had thoroughly captured his heart, though she was more than he ever expected.

Doubt began to creep in to Draco's mind, despite her calming presence. "The world will be against us, you know." he murmured quietly against her curls.

"A happy life consists not in the absence, but in the mastery of hardships, Draco." Hermione replied with a sigh. He knew the road ahead would be difficult. They were from two different words and given their respective pasts, it would take all they had to make things work. _Their respective pasts._ Where he had always treated Lyra with respect and reverence, he had consistently treated Hermione Granger with persecution and repugnance for the past seven years. He suddenly felt ill.

Draco turned and took her hands in his, his voice soft, pleading, desperate. "Hermione, I am so sorry, for everything that happened between us. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Draco, I forgave you a long time ago." Hermione squeezed his hands reassuringly and released a bright, clear peal of laughter. Draco stared down at the witch and quirked a confused eyebrow at her reaction to her own forgiveness of him.

"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much." She choked out, between her fits her laughter.

"Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?" Draco replied as a genuine smile rose to his lips for the first time in recent memory.

Hermione stopped laughing at met Draco's eyes with her own which were shining as brightly as the stars twinkling above their heads in the vast expanse of space. The way she peered into his soul when their eyes met took his breath away. "A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you."

He pressed his lips to his witch's forehead. "I love you too, Hermione."


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione Granger, only daughter to Richard and Jean Granger, brightest witch of the age, muggleborn, and fifth year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry walked out of Flourish and Blotts with a stack of textbooks, the latest edition of Hogwarts a History, several novels, two books of poetry, and one novelty item which had caught her interest. She breathed in the warm summer air as she and her enormous stack of items made their way to the Leakey Cauldron where she was meeting her parents for lunch before they drove back to their tidy home so Hermione could pack for her upcoming year at school.

Her curls bounced in the breeze as she nearly skipped down the street. The fifteen-year-old was excited, but nervous about the upcoming term given the events which had occurred at the end of her fourth year. She knew what was yet to come and war was looming on the horizon, especially given the backlash of the Ministry of Magic regarding Harry's accusations. She was so lost in her thoughts that she suddenly found herself on her backside with her books scattered around her staring up into a pair of cold, gray eyes.

"Oh look, the mudblood is down in the dirt where she belongs." Draco sneered, gazing down on her with what she could only interpret as utter loathing. There was a flash of something behind it, but she couldn't make out what it was.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the blonde boy and pushed herself off of the pavement, brushing the dirt from her robes. "Call me that again and I'll break your nose, Malfoy." She threatened.

He chuckled heartlessly as Hermione gathered the items that had scattered about. "You don't scare me, Granger. I'll do exactly as I please, _mudblood_." He said, taunting her, as a tall blonde man stepped behind him and placed a hand firmly on his shoulder.

"Draco, your mother is waiting." The older Malfoy stated with a hint of warning not paying any mind to Hermione as he steered his son away from her. She glared at the pair as she finished tucking all of her items safely in her bag. Hermione squared her shoulders and inhaled a deep breath, pushing all thoughts of that idiotic prat out of her mind as she continued towards her destination.

….

Hermione finally had found a few moments of peace. Ginny was out at the Quidditch pitch for practice, Lavender and Parvati were off doing who knows what, and she was ahead on all of her assignments. She pulled her curls up into a loose bun on the top of her head and settled into her bed with one of the novels she had purchased before the school year began.

As she opened the novel, a folded parchment fell from within it's pages and Hermione stared at it curiously. She remembered purchasing the parchment from Flourish and Blotts several weeks prior, but had forgotten about it until this point. She nearly threw her book against the wall when she felt it pulse in her palm. Quickly unfolding it, she read the simple word on the page.

 _ **Hello.**_

Well, someone's parchment had definitely linked with her own. The witch at the shop said it might take a bit for a connection to establish, but clearly one hand. She reached over to her bedside table and retrieved a quill and a pot of ink before replying.

 _ **Hi.**_

Hermione decided that wasn't quite enough, so she asked a simple question to break the ice. It had been quite a while since she had had any type of pen-pal and those were typically much slower, given that one had to write an entire letter before sending it off.

 _ **How are you?**_

Before too long, more words spread across the page.

 _ **I am quite well, term started not that long ago. How are you?**_

Term. That meant whoever was on the other side of the parchment was in school, possibly at her own school. Didn't the witch at the shop say something about it connecting with someone nearby? Perhaps they would tell her who they were if she asked, though she doubted it.

 _ **Much the same. What is your name?**_

 _ **Cadmus.**_

That could possibly be a real name, but she was certain no one with that name went to her school, unless perhaps they were several years below her. But even then, being a prefect she knew most students' names. No, she was certain he was using an alias, so perhaps she should as well.

Hermione glanced over at the novel she had nearly thrown across the room. On the cover of the book was a picture of a man who could've passed for a statue holding a delicate lyre. She knew the story intimately having studied mythology as part of her Astronomy course.

 _ **I'm Lyra.**_

" _ **Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them." – Cadmus**_

Hermione stared at the words for several moments, analyzing them. She knew them well as they were by Marcus Aurelius a Roman emperor and philosopher she had studied two years ago. The quote he used must have been a reference to the Lyra constellation which was near Cygnus, Hercules, Draco, and Vulpecula in the night sky. Since he started it, she may as well reply in a similar manner. She mulled over the options in her mind and eventually selected one which would hopefully convey her understanding.

" _ **I know that I am mortal by nature, and ephemeral; but when I trace my pleasure the windings to and fro of the heavenly bodies I no longer touch the earth with my feet: I stand in the presence of Zeus himself and take my fill of ambrosia." – Lyra**_

 _ **Ptolemy. I'm impressed. – Cadmus**_

He understood! Harry and Ron would've been completely oblivious, but then again, they never would have quote Marcus Aurelius to her in the first place. He had to be at least her age or older. She couldn't imagine anyone younger than her having that depth of knowledge. Most boys her age could only talk about Quidditch before their hormones took over.

 _ **You quoted Marcus Aurelius. It seemed fitting. How old are you? – Lyra**_

 _ **Fifteen. – Cadmus**_

Brilliant. He was the same age as her. He couldn't possibly go to Hogwarts, could he? She highly doubted it given that no one had really challenged her intellectually. When Malfoy wasn't being such a prat he came close, then again he could possibly be a Ravenclaw, or maybe Ernie MacMillan.

 _ **Same. Which school do you attend? – Lyra**_

 _ **Durmstrang. Mum wanted me to attend Hogwarts, but Dad won out eventually. You? – Cadmus**_

Hermione frowned. It was just her luck she had found someone intelligent and likely capable of holding literary and philosophical debates with her and he was sequestered somewhere in Scandinavia. Perhaps Viktor knew him?

Given the situation that was brewing with Voldemort in England, she wasn't certain she wanted a stranger knowing she was attending Hogwarts, especially given that she was a muggle-born, even though he didn't know that yet. Durmstrang had its fair share of dark wizards, after all, so she was better off being safe than sorry.

 _ **Beauxbatons. – Lyra**_

Hermione pushed a stray curl from her face and silently prayed he wouldn't try and speak to her in French, of which she knew very little.

 _ **What do you look like? – Cadmus**_

What did she look like? What sort of question was that? Hermione crossed the room and stood in front of the mirror, examining her appearance. Her hair was brown, her eyes were brown, her features were rather plain. Altogether, she wasn't quite pleased with her appearance, not that it was something that had distinctly mattered to her before. Lavender and Parvati was constantly trying out new charms and hair potions while Hermione had her nose in her books when she wasn't out saving Harry and Ron from whatever mischief they were getting in.

With a sigh, Hermione crossed the room again and issued her response.

 _ **I'm rather petite with brown hair, brown eyes. Nothing special. – Lyra**_

" _ **Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears." Anyone who can quote great scholars and philosophers on a whim seems rather special. – Cadmus**_

Edgar Allen Poe. So, he clearly knew philosophy and poetry. It was an utter shame he didn't attend her school, but she supposed they could still debate through the parchment. It would simply take a bit longer to write out their responses. Wait, had he just complimented her? At the realization, a flush rose to Hermione's cheeks. She barely knew this boy and here she was acting all giddy at what he said.

" _ **I'm trying to think, don't confuse me with facts." – Lyra**_

….

Between her studies, dodging the Inquisitorial Squad and Umbridge, and her D.A. meetings, Hermione barely had time to write to Cadmus via their two-way parchment. Their conversations had become a highlight of her day whenever she could steal a few minutes to say anything simple or witty to him. Sometimes, he would open the conversation with a given topic and they would simply debate the merits, each one picking a side. Other times, they would talk about their lives in vague terms being careful not to share too much personal information with one another.

The stress of her favorite twins leaving the school in a fury, constant antagonization from the Inquisitorial Squad, Hagrid being persecuted to the extent that he had to flee the school, shouldering Harry's burdens and visions of Voldemort, plus the threat of examinations had Hermione feeling particularly hopeless. Hopeless was not a word that was typically in her vocabulary, but it certainly fit her in this moment.

" _ **The loneliest moments in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart and all they can do is stare blankly." – Lyra**_

 _ **Talk to me. – Cadmus**_

Hermione sighed and put quill to parchment.

 _ **Things are not going well for me, right now. Beyond examinations, the state of the world and everything going on with Y-K-W has me worried, even though no one seems to believe that he's back. – Lyra**_

 _ **I believe it and I'm worried too. "Older men declare war, but it is youth that must fight and die." – Cadmus**_

He was exactly right. Once the world realized that You Know Who was really back, it would be her generation that would be in the thick of it, no matter how their elders tried to protect them. She, Harry, and Ron had already been fighting for years and there was still more fighting to come.

" _ **Wars are poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows." If it comes to it, will you fight?" – Lyra**_

 _ **I will do what I must to survive. Is anything else bothering you? – Cadmus**_

 _ **I don't want to say too much, but I would appreciate it if you would think of me from time to time and send good thoughts my way. - Lyra**_

" _ **My thoughts are free to go anywhere, but it's surprising how often they head in your direction." – Cadmus**_

Hermione felt her heart flutter in her chest and a calmness washed over her. As hectic and stressful as her life was at this moment, it was enough to know that _he_ was thinking of her.

….

Hermione was settled into the library studying for her examinations when she felt the pulse of the parchment from within her robes. She thought about ignoring it for a few moments but her curiosity got the best of her and she pulled the parchment out.

 _ **Lyra, are you around? I need to talk to you about something.**_ _**– Cadmus**_

She frowned and scribbled a quick reply, setting her potions book and meticulously color-coded notes to the side.

 _ **I'm here. Is everything okay? – Lyra**_

 _ **Not really. But I need to tell someone and you're the only one I can confide in, right now. – Cadmus**_

 _ **Talk to me. – Lyra**_

Hermione held her breath waiting for his reply. It took longer than expected, but she wasn't surprised how long it had taken when she saw his reply.

 _ **I must pretend to be something I am not in fear of my own life and the lives of my family. I come from a long line of pure-blooded wizards and my parents have fallen under the spell of Y-K-W and the vitriol he spews about muggle-borns. I used to believe it simply because it was how I was raised but I can't say that I support it any more. I'm afraid that before too long, I will be made to take the mark and do all that is required of one in that position. If I run or try and go against them, they will kill me and all those I love. - Cadmus**_

"Oh no." She breathed to herself in the silence of the library. Her heart was thumping in her chest as she read his words. He was very likely in more danger than she was and she knew his own chance of escape was very low. Blood-traitors were just as bad as muggle-borns in the eyes of the Death Eaters.

It hurt her to know that he once believed in it, but it can be quite difficult to remove oneself from the beliefs that have been instilled since birth. It must take great courage to be able to find his own way even with pureblood rhetoric being shoved down his throat.

What on earth could she say to try and ease his fears? She suddenly felt terrified for him as how easy he spoke of his own death.

" _ **He had two lives: one open, seen and known by all who cared to know, full of relative truth and of relative falsehood, exactly like the lives of his friends and acquaintances; and another life running its course in secret. And through some strange, perhaps accidental, conjunction of circumstances, everything that was essential, of interest, and of value to him, everything in which he was sincere and did not deceive himself, everything that made the kernel of his life, was hidden from other people." – Lyra**_

A ball of anxiety made its home in the pit of her stomach and she suddenly felt very ill. She wrung her hands together under the table before adding another line.

 _ **You must do what you must in order to survive, Cadmus. "Man is what he believes." – Lyra**_

 _ **I certainly don't believe in the rhetoric the DE's desperately cling to, but I'm forced to play along with it. I'm forced to be uncaring and cruel and it's slowly killing me, Lyra." - Cadmus**_

Forced. The fact that he was forced into being anything other than what he was shattered her heart. She had found him to be fiercely intelligent, charming, and driven. He was tolerant and well read, but she had always sensed some sort of darkness within him in the cautious way he wrote. There had to be a way to ensure his survival, but if he was so under the thumb of his family, she wasn't certain she could do anything to help him but be encouraging. It's not like he was here for her to protect.

" _ **Confront the darkest parts of yourself and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing." You have to survive, Cadmus, for me if not for yourself. It's never too late to turn to the light. – Lyra**_

" _ **My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes." – Cadmus**_

If her heart wasn't shattered before, it was certainly shattered now. She felt a tear trail down her cheek and land on the parchment just as the word 'hopes' was disappearing.

 _ **I've already been forced to do some terrible things. One of the smartest witches I know is a muggle-born and while she grates on my nerves in other ways, it eats at my soul when I have to make threats against her in order to save face. – Cadmus**_

Hermione knew at that moment she needed to confide in him, having been the victim of taunts and teasing due to only her blood status. She suddenly wondered if Malfoy felt any remorse at his treatment of her. Perhaps he was going through something similar like Cadmus. She decided at that moment to forgive Malfoy of anything he had said to her up to that point. She was certain he would be a prat again at a later date, but she will forgive him.

 _ **I'm muggle-born, as well. – Lyra**_

 _ **And you're absolutely brilliant which just goes to show that those who follow Y-K-W are off their rockers. It is in these precious moments that I can steal away and just be myself, I feel whole when I'm talking to you. – Cadmus**_

She smiled and laughed softly at his assessment of her, forgetting she was in the library for a moment. Her laughter earned her a hard stare and a shush from Madam Pince.

" _ **To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." - Lyra**_

 _ **How is it you always know exactly what to say? – Cadmus**_

She thought about it. She knew him so intimately after only about a year of correspondence. They had spoken of everything from their hopes and dreams to their fears. She might not know his real name or what he looked like, but he was as much of a friend to her as Harry and Ron, and perhaps even more than that. How was it possible to feel such compassion and longing for someone you had never met?

" _ **What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies." - Lyra**_

….

Hermione sat upstairs in Ginny's bedroom as the redhead witch slept soundly next to her. She conjured a faint light and pushed a stray curl behind her ear, unfolding the parchment she kept close to her heart. She knew what was coming and what she had to do. She knew he had been forced to take the Mark and she was about to embark on a journey with Harry and Ron to hopefully defeat Voldemort once and for all. They were on opposite sides of the war, not by choice. She knew in her heart he would've joined her side if he say any way to.

She felt the tears fall as she wrote the words she had been trying to say for the past twenty minutes.

 _ **I'm on the run and won't be able to keep in touch, for now. – Lyra**_

She knew she wouldn't be able to correspond with him while they were doing what they needed to do, as much as it killed her. She would need to spend all of her time focusing on their task to find the remaining horcruxes and there was no way she would let Harry go alone. The thought of leaving Cadmus behind was breaking her, but it was something she needed to do. She had never felt so close to anyone who wasn't Harry or Ron, but it was different with him.

" _ **Do not be afraid, our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift." Please stay safe out there. You don't seem like the type who would do something foolish, but I need you to come out of this alive, Lyra. – Cadmus**_

She was about to do the most foolish thing she had ever done, but he couldn't know that. She didn't want him to worry, though she knew he would, just as he would never be far from her thoughts.

" _ **There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me." I will do what I can to keep myself safe as long as you promise to do the same. I need to know you're safe so I can do what I have to do. – Lyra**_

 _ **I promise. – Cadmus**_

She knew as well as he did that promises were useless in times of war. They would either come out of it, or they wouldn't, and Hermione desperately hoped they would both come out on the other side.

 _ **If you haven't heard there's a taboo on Y-K-W's name, don't say it aloud or the Snatchers will find you. - Cadmus**_

 _ **I'll see you on the other side of this war. – Lyra**_.

" _ **Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come whispering 'it will be happier…'" On the other side, Lyra. – Cadmus.**_

If only she could believe what he was trying to tell her. She extinguished the light, tucked the parchment into her beaded bag and laid awake next to a sleeping Ginny. There would be no sleep for Hermione tonight.

….

Even with Voldemort finally defeated, Hermione's life was still in chaos. If she wasn't assisting with the rebuilding of Hogwarts, she was volunteering at St. Mungo's, fending off the press, or attempting to cope with her nightmares at the Burrow. It was one of those sleepless nights where she was tucked up safely in the Burrow when she felt a pulse she had not felt in nearly a year. She scrambled out of bed and sat herself on the wooden floor, conjuring a tiny ball of light, her eyes devouring the words.

 _ **Lyra, if you've made it out this mess alive, I wanted to let you know that I survived, despite everyone's efforts. - Cadmus**_

Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt relief wash over her. He was alive. He was safe, he survived everything his family had put him through. Suddenly, everything was lighter.

" _ **When I despair, I remember that all through history the ways of truth and love have always won." – Lyra**_

" _ **There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it – always." – Cadmus**_

She wondered what his plans were and whether or not he had been able to finish out his last year at Durmstrang with the war raging.

 _ **Were you able to finish school? – Lyra**_

 _ **No. I will be going back to finish this year. But I have a confession to make. I lied to you all of those years ago. I never attended Durmstrang. I attended Hogwarts." – Cadmus**_

Hermione sat there stunned as she stared at the parchment. He had lied to her, but that didn't even matter. What mattered was that he had attended Hogwarts. He had been within her reach during their fifth and sixth years. She could've protected him, she could've saved him, and helped him turn from the darkness if only she had known. Beyond that, she had probably spoken to him, never knowing who he was. They may have had classes together! In all probability, they had classes together, especially given his level of intelligence he was sure to be in some of the more advanced courses. What if they were in the same house? No, that was unlikely. He was probably in a different house and given his families leanings the best candidate was Slytherin. Perhaps Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, though the vast majority of those students did not have family members who were Death Eaters.

She frowned, thinking back on the last few years. There was so much she could've done had she only known who he was. Why hadn't he said anything sooner?

 _ **We must have passed one another in the corridors a thousand times, never knowing. – Lyra**_

 _ **But, you said you attended Beauxbatons. – Cadmus**_

Oh crap. She had forgotten about that little white lie. Maybe that's why he never said anything, he hadn't known.

 _ **I know. I lied. – Lyra**_

 _ **Will you be going back? – Cadmus**_

Was he? Oh sweet Circe, please let him also be returning to Hogwarts. It would make Hermione feel better to know how close he might be, even if they had never meet. She wasn't certain they would meet still, but at least he would be nearby.

 _ **I will. "Learning is not attainted by chance, it must be sought for with ardor and attended to with diligence." – Lyra**_

" _ **Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all." - Cadmus**_

Her suspicions were confirmed as she sat on that cold, hard floor in Ginny's bedroom. He was returning to Hogwarts and if she wasn't mistaken, his feelings for her went beyond platonic friendship. For the first time since the end of the war, she felt joyful.

….

Hermione Granger moved swiftly through the crowd at King's Cross Station, weaving between peoples of all nationalities and ages towards Platform 9 ¾. She carried a small handbag and a crate containing her beloved half-Kneazle, Crookshanks who was protesting loudly at his confinement. She slipped through the wall between platforms nine and ten without being seen by any of the Muggles milling about and sighed in relief at seeing the Hogwarts Express, gleaming before her. The platform was bustling with activity and excitement which seemed to mirror her own. She saw some very tentative looking first years clinging to their parents as well as some familiar faces. She rushed over to the crowd of people all bearing red hair, save for one dark-headed young man, and joined their circle with ease.

She felt Molly Weasley's arms envelop her shoulders in a familiar, motherly hug. "Hermione, dear. We were hoping we would see you." The older witch smiled at the brunette like she was one of her own.

"Likewise, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione replied with her own sincere smile.

"I expect you're ready for some sense of normalcy, my dear. Only natural after what you all have been through." The matron of the family gestured to the other smiling faces around her while clicking her tongue in a disapproving way over the events of the past year. Harry stood behind Ginny, his hands wresting on her shoulders while Ron was standing near George and his father. George still looked thoroughly melancholy following the loss of his brother, but he gave Hermione a small, but kind smile of acknowledgement.

"Indeed. There's so much to do before we take our N.E.W.T.s in the spring. I'm afraid I won't have enough time to study since we missed so much of last year." It was so like Hermione to be worried about her examinations before the year had even begun.

Ron snorted a knowing chuckle. "You could probably take them now and do just fine, Hermione. Being in the Order had its advantages."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Their time on the run and fighting for the Order had been beneficial, but if she was going to do things properly, finishing school was number one on her list. Besides, if she took her N.E.W.T.s now, she would be lucky to get Exceeds Expectations and that wouldn't do.

"I'm still sad you two won't be joining me." She sighed, eying Harry and Ron with a sadness in her brown eyes.

While she and Ron had shared a frenetic kiss in the middle of the Battle of Hogwarts, they had decided to remain friends. There was definitely some form of love between them, but it had morphed into more of a brotherly-sisterly affection.

"You could've accepted the offer same as we did, Hermione. Shacklebolt extended it to all three of us." Harry had slipped his arms around Ginny's waist, pointedly ignoring the slightly narrowed eyes and furrowed brow of Arthur Weasley.

"I've no aspirations to become an Auror, you know that. I'm thinking of perhaps pursuing the healing arts or who knows? Maybe I'll go for curse-breaking or muggle relations." Hermione laughed. She had already had several job offers in those areas amongst others, but she wanted to earn them fair and square. Being a War Hero came with many perks, but Hermione wanted to make sure she deserved what was offered.

"You'll be brilliant no matter what you choose, Hermione."

"Thanks, Ron." She smiled, embracing her friend, glancing up at the clock noting it was nearly time to depart. "I'm afraid it's time to say our good-byes. You'll come visit us in Hogsmeade, yeah?"

Harry put on the straightest face he could muster and droned "obviously" in a manner very characteristic of Severus Snape which elicited a few snickers from the Weasley clan and Hermione.

Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger bid farewell to their friends and family and boarded the Hogwarts Express, settling into a compartment with Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and the Patil twins. With a sound of the horn, they had set off towards the Scottish Highlands.

"Where's your trunk, Hermione?" Neville questioned.

Hermione held up her small handbag, laughing. "Undetectable extension charm. It's just easier this way." Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a small bag of treats to try and coax Crookshanks from the crate she had been carrying. "Oh, come now, don't be like that, Crooks. You know it was necessary." The lion maned half-Kneazle tentatively took a treat from her almost, almost begrudgingly, before taking a few tentative steps outside of the crate.

Hermione felt the parchment in her pocket warm and pulse three times. Her friends had settled into a conversation about their summers as she pulled it from her pocket, attempting to be discreet.

 _ **Did you make it on, safely? – Cadmus**_

Hermione pulled a quill and vial of ink from her small handbag and scribbled a quick reply.

 _ **Safe and sound. – Lyra**_

Before she knew what had happened, Ginny had snatched the parchment from her hand and was pouring over the words on the page. So much for discretion. "Ginevra Weasley! You give that back." Ginny had backed herself against the window, examining the parchment. "Not until you tell me who this… Cadmus… is!"

"Ginny, seriously. Give it back." Hermione was chasing the red-head around the small compartment, attempting to grab the parchment out of her hand with little success. The redheaded witch was as fast on her feet as she was on a broom.

"Is that what I think it is?" said one of the Patil twins staring intently at the parchment in the redhead's hands. Hermione never could tell them apart when they were together despite having shared a dormitory with Parvati for many years.

"If you mean it's a M.A.P. and enchanted ink, then yes. If you're thinking it's an essay on the merits of Gibbering Plumarians, then no, definitely not." Luna chimed in with her own touch of whimsy. "I've been writing to a lovely muggle-born mother of ten for the past year who lives in France."

"That doesn't look like a map to me, Luna." said Neville, looking just as confused as the Patil twins. Hermione swore to herself that Neville had looked perpetually confused since he had lost his toad on their first train ride to Hogwarts. His heroics over the past year must have just been a fluke. Kind, confused Neville seemed to be back at the forefront while dashing, hero Neville seemed to have faded back into the shadows, at least at this particular moment in time.

"Magically Altered Parchment." Luna remarked with a dreamy smile as Hermione had finally cornered Ginny Weasley, having managed to snatch the parchment back. "It lets you speak anonymously to someone in the wizarding world. Most people end up paired with someone at their school or in their city. I got rather lucky with Mrs. Blumfontaine and her brood."

Ginny smirked at Hermione as she folded the parchment carefully, tucking it back into her pocket. "You still didn't answer me, Hermione. Who is Cadmus?"

Hermione felt the parchment warm and pulse in her pocket again, but she didn't dare let on that another message from him had just come through. "He's just a friend." She muttered knowing it wouldn't get Ginny Weasley off of her back given that her cheeks were stained with just a hint of pink.

He was a friend, that much was true, but he was so much more than that. It was a part of her life she wasn't quite ready to share with anyone just yet.

….

Hermione watched as Draco kept his head down and his hands in his pockets as he exited the train, heading towards the carriages with the rest of the returning students, ducking into a carriage with Parkinson and Zabini. Hermione's thoughts shifted to Cadmus and all he had gone through in the war and she couldn't help but draw parallels between him and Draco Malfoy.

"Merlin, he looks awful." Ginny remarked with a frown as she gestured to Draco Malfoy who disappeared into one of the Thestral pulled carriages.

"Both of his parents did get sent to Azkaban." Luna offered.

Hermione pursed her lips and frowned, watching the carriage move towards the entrance to Hogwarts. "I think it was our testimony that kept him from being sentenced to a similar fate as his parents."

"Wait. You testified on his behalf? I'm pretty certain that Mark on his arm makes him a Death Eater." Neville's eyes widened in shock at the brunette's revelation. "You saw what happened at the battle, he ran off with his parents. Voldemort embraced him for Godic's sake when he crossed the courtyard."

"We all testified, Neville." Luna smiled, staring dreamily at one of the Thestrals as she trailed her fingertips along it's shoulder. "He didn't really fight against anyone in the Battle of Hogwarts and he didn't identify Harry, Hermione, and Ron when we were all trapped in Malfoy Manor. He wasn't too awful to me and Dean when we were in his house either. I think he just got swept up in everything while trying to survive."

Hermione tensely rubbed her forearm, roughly caressing the lingering traces of the scar Bellatrix Lestrange had left carved into her flesh while Draco watched from the sidelines, unable to do anything. It was the look of utter hopelessness in his eyes on that night that had convinced her his heart wasn't in it.

"We'd better go, we'll miss the sorting." She was longing to settle in for the semester and even more impatient to steal a moment of privacy to see what _he_ had written to her while they had been on the train.

….

Hermione was reading under her favorite sprawling oak tree on the Hogwarts grounds when her parchment began to pulse from within her robes. She set aside her book and opened the parchment.

 _ **I've left you something behind a very dusty copy of De Gradibus Maledicto in the restricted section of the library. – Cadmus**_

" _ **I'll be at the Quidditch pitch this afternoon if you're worried that I might be watching when you go to find it. – Cadmus**_

He left her something? What could he have possibly left her? He had taken the care to make sure he wouldn't see her. While they hadn't spoken about it, she strongly suspected neither of them were ready for a face to face confrontation. She knew she wasn't quite ready given the scars from the war which were still healing.

Her legs were carrying her towards the library before she knew what she was doing. She smiled at the changing of the seasons and the cooler air that was coming with the introduction of autumn. Before she knew it, she found herself on the ground having collided with something tall and quite hard. Once she managed to get her bearings, she was starting directly into the silvery orbs of one Draco Malfoy.

"Damnit, Granger. Watch where you're going." He said with a mild sneer of irritation. Standing up from the pathway, he brushed the dirt from his trousers and jumper, before offering her his hand. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared warily at his offered hand as though it was going to curse her. Never in her life had Draco Malfoy done anything nice for her, well, except maybe not identifying them at Malfoy Manor.

Hermione bit her bottom lip and took his han, standing up and brushing off her skirt. "Thank you". She said. "I'm sorry for running into you, Malfoy. I was in a hurry to get to the library and wasn't paying attention to where I was walking."

Hermione picked up the two books she had dropped on the ground and arranged them carefully in her arms.

"Don't worry about it." She heard him mumble as he turned to walk away from the castle.

Hermione thought back to that night at the manor and everything that had happened following the end of the war. Given her experiences with Cadmus, she had made a promise to herself to forgive Malfoy and his lack of identification at the Manor showed he was at least somewhat capable of something. What that something was, she wasn't sure.

"Malfoy, I…" she started, trying to find the words to say what she needed to say.

"Granger, just go…" He said with a bit of mild irritation.

"I'm-sorry-about-your-parents-and-I'm-glad-you-didn't-get-sent-to-Azkaban. Thank-you-for-what-you-did-for-us-at-the-Manor." she blurted out so quickly, her cheeks flushing as she gripped the books tightly against her chest. She stared at him even as he stared at her. He was taller than she remembered and his hair was so blonde it was nearly white. It wasn't long nor was it slicked back, it was something else entirely but it suited him. He wore a simple pair of black trousers with his school jumper over a white oxford. Everything was impeccable, as usual and not a hair nor a threat was out of place.

She saw Draco briefly glance at the books in her hands before staring straight into her eyes "Make the most of your regrets: never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it 'til it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh." He replied calmly and turned on his heels, leaving Hermione's mouth agape.

"Thoreau…" she breathed, her voice barely above a breath of wind. She knew Malfoy was well read, but that was certainly the last thing she had expected. A snarky comment, a begrudging acceptance, but certainly not the words of Henry David Thoreau spilling from his lips.

Hermione pushed the thoughts of the odd encounter from her mind and continued her journey towards the library, eager to find out whatever it was he had left her in the Restricted Section. Hermione looked around the library and noted she was alone, save for a table of two Ravenclaw fifth or sixth years. Given that she knew their ages were similar, he was true to his word that he wasn't in the library.

Hermione calmly walked into the restricted section and trailed her fingertips over the spines of the books, pulling the copy of _De Gradibus Maledicto_ from its place on the shelf. She opened the book and thumbed through its ancient pages before recalling he had said he left her something behind the copy, not inside of it, reaching between the other volumes, her fingertips found a small velvet box.

Opening it, she took a small piece of parchment from the books. " _After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." – Cadmus."_ She breathed life into the quote as she whispered aloud, her fingertips tracing the tidy script. The parchment they typically used to communicate altered text into a standard script. His handwriting looked somewhat familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. Hermione turned her attention to the delicate lyre pendant suspended on a chain of gold. She tentatively touched the strings of the lyre, smiling. Hermione clasped the chain around her neck and tucked the small pendant safely beneath her jumper and moved on shaky legs back to the stacks of books she had brought into the library. She was so moved by his gesture, she found the corners of her eyes were suddenly brimming with unshed tears.

" _ **Music should strike fire from the heart of man, and bring tears from the eyes of woman." I will cherish it, always. Thank you.**_ **–** _ **Lyra**_

Hermione stayed in the library until quite late before returning to Gryffindor tower. She had been attempting to avoid Ginny Weasley and her incessant questioning but she knew at some point it would be inevitable. She might as well have it on her terms. She put each of her books away and hung her robes in the wardrobe before sitting down on Ginny's bed, holding up her hand. "You get five questions, that's it."

Ginny, being the perceptive witch she was, immediately understood Hermione's meaning. She leaned close to her friend, hungry for information about her secret friend. "When did it start?"

"Fifth year." She pulled her thumb against her palm, displaying four fingers.

"Is Cadmus his real name?" Ginny's fiery hair was almost alight she was so excited to finally be getting some answers to her questions.

"No, and he doesn't know my real name, either." Hermione stated calmly, showing three questions remaining on her fingers.

"But he goes to Hogwarts, yeah?"

"Yes, though I just found that out recently. He told me he went to Durmstrang when we first started corresponding. Two more." Hermione firmly pushed two fingers towards Ginny, emphasizing her point.

"Don't you want to meet him?"

Hermione blinked and drew back slightly, feeling like her stomach had completely left her body. Did she? Was she ready to take that step, probably not, but she was admittedly curious. "Yes", she replied, tentatively.

"Do you have _feelings_ for him?" Ginny pushed, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"What kind of question is that, Ginevra Weasley?" Hermione nearly fell backwards off of Ginny's bed. A slight, telling flush spread across Hermione's cheeks. She had not been expecting that question. Leave it to Ginny to ask the unexpected.

"YOU DO!" Ginny exclaimed, nearly jumping up and down on her bed. "You have feelings for him and he's someone you've never met!" Ginny pumped her fists in the air in victory. "I knew it." Her eyes went wide with wonder. "I wonder if he has feelings for you, too. This is perfect, Hermione. You need a good snog what with all of the stress and nonsense we just went through with the war."

 _Stress and nonsense._ Leave it to Ginny to over-simplify things. Sometimes she was thicker than Ron which led to Hermione wondering just how many bludgers she had taken to the head during Quidditch practice. Without realizing it, Hermione's fingertips went to the small golden lyre protected beneath her jumper and her observant friend just happened to catch a glimpse of gold chain.

"WHAT IS THAT AROUND YOUR NECK, HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER?" Ginny shouted, pawing wildly at the base of her friend's neck, freeing the necklace from beneath her jumper despite Hermione's best efforts. Ginny leaned in, focusing on the small golden charm she held between her fingers. "Did he give this to you? Is this an instrument? Looks kind of like a harp. Is it a harp? Why did he give you a harp?"

"You're out of questions." Hermione laughed, pulling away from her fiery friend who was acting exactly the way she had anticipated she would.

"Your lack of response tells me everything I need to know! He gave this to you… whatever it is." Ginny pointed her finger at the somewhat startled girl. "Merlin's beard, Hermione. This Cadmus person has feelings for you, obviously because the first present he gave you appears to be a very expensive necklace." Ginny crossed her arms triumphantly over her chest with a smug smile.

"So… when are you going to try and see him."

Hermione laughed it off, sliding off of Ginny's bed. "You're out of questions, Weasley!"

"Come on, Hermione!" Ginny pleaded. "This is the best thing I've heard since Neville caught Padma Patil and Daphne Greengrass in Greenhouse 2 doing things that would make plants blush."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She had avoided that bit of gossip as much as she could which was minimally given who she shared a dormitory with. "Besides, I'm not even sure I'm ready to meet him. It seems like such a big step." She sighed.

"At least tell me why the necklace he got you is some kind of weird harp!"

Hermione pursed her lips and gave in to the redhead. "I chose the name Lyra many years ago in lieu of using my given name."

"Lira? Like the Turkish currency?" Ginny wrinkled her nose out of confusion. What did currency have to do with musical instruments?

"No, _Lyra_. Like the constellation, named for the Lyre of Orpheus. It's a musical instrument with the power to charm and conquer even Hades." Hermione said, knowing Ginny probably wouldn't understand the significance of anything she said. The girl was rubbish at Astronomy and had probably never studied the associated mythology.

Ginny narrowed her eyes in confusion and smirked at her friend. "Sometimes, I think you read too much."

Hermione put her hands on her hips and laughed. "This well-read brain saved your boyfriend and brother too many times to count during the war."

"Touché."

….

Hermione pressed her fingertips to the place just under her jumper where the necklace rested before scribbling a note to Cadmus.

 _ **How are your studies, going? – Lyra**_

 _ **Well, enough. High marks, for the most part. Yours? – Cadmus**_

Hermione looked around the crowded library from her cozy spot near the Restricted Section, watching for any tell-tale sign that he might be in the library as she wrote her next reply, even though she knew it was a bit foolish to do so.

 _ **Fairly well. I'm expecting to pass my N.E.W.T.s, but there's always more studying to be done to be certain. Sometimes catch myself wondering if you're in the library when I'm studying. – Lyra**_

No one moved, much to Hermione's dismay.

" _ **He who lives in our mind is near though he may actually be far away; but he who is not in our heart is far though he may really be nearby." – Cadmus**_

Not in our heart? She would need to set him straight.

" _ **Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye." – Lyra**_

While she had likely passed him in the halls or shared classes with him, she had never met him but she knew how she felt, and it was of those feelings she was absolutely terrified.

 _ **I need to see you. Please, Lyra. – Cadmus**_

Hermione's entire body tensed and she rested her hands in her head, her fingertips curling up into her tousled curls. She found herself at a crossroads. The implications of meeting him face to face were substantial and could absolutely change everything they had. Her heart was telling her one thing, but of course it was in conflict with her mind. Her rational, intelligent mind was screaming at her what a bad idea this could be while her heart was thundering equally as loudly that she needed him. She needed to see him, to embrace him, to hear the pounding of his heart as it beat in time with hers.

Unfortunately, logic won as she slowly put quill to parchment, trying to suppress her own tears.

 _ **I'm not ready. I will be one day, but not today. – Lyra**_

" _ **For it was not into my ear you whispered but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul." – Cadmus**_

 _ **I know. – Lyra**_

She heard the quill clatter against the wood table before she had even realized she had dropped it. She buried her face in her arms and cried quietly in her own corner of the library. She cried for her fears, her aching heart, and because she had never felt something so intensely for another person.

….

The wind was starting to get that biting chill to it that signaled the end of autumn and the beginning of winter. Snow flurries were beginning, though nothing was sticking at the moment, and the Christmas holidays would be upon them in only a few short weeks. Hermione sat in the in the library, surrounded by several books, parchment, inkpots, and quills. She was struggling to concentrate, her mind elsewhere completely.

Earlier that day, Professor McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts announced that in the spirit of inter-house unity a Yuletide ball would be held during the week prior to the Christmas holidays. She found herself uncharacteristically nervous about the potential implications of a ball at Hogwarts. Would he ask her to go with him? Would she accept if he asked her? Was she ready for this? Was she ready to meet him, face to face? Her heart fluttered at the thought, especially after the tear-filled night she had several weeks ago in the library after his first request for them to meet.

Hermione glanced around the library, finding it was almost empty and that she had once again likely stayed too late. There were a handful of other students dotted around at the various tables. She recognized a few younger Gryffindors, Hannah Abbott who was sitting with one of the Patil twins, a table of third year Ravenclaws, and Draco Malfoy who was sitting near the roaring fire, clad in his typical freshly pressed black attire, his school robes discarded onto a nearby chair. He had loosened his emerald and silver tie and rolled his sleeves up. He looked peaceful and relaxed as he leisurely turned the pages of the leather-bound tome he was reading.

Hermione had always tried to see the good in others, and it was no different with Malfoy. She knew he had done what he needed to in order to survive in the environment in which he was raised and she found that she no longer harbored any animosity towards him. She had long since forgiven him for his transgressions. He had likely been a complete tosser in their younger years out of fear and misguided teachings. Harry had also told her about the night where he was unable to complete his task to murder Albus Dumbledore.

Hermione noted how different he was acting this year. The war must have done a number on him for he most often kept his head down and generally attempted to avoid trouble. There was a strange sense of calm desperation always in his stormy eyes and Hermione idly wondered what could possibly have caused it. Maybe he was simply trying to adapt, as they all were.

Her thoughts slowly drifted back to Cadmus and she felt her cheeks flush and her heart flutter. It had been doing that a lot lately. How could someone she had never met send her body and mind into such a distorted, delirious state? He evenly matched her at every turn, intellectually and that prospect was intensely stimulating. Perhaps she was ready, as terrifying as it sounded echoing within her mind.

She had turned her eyes back to her studies for mere moments before she felt the pulsing parchment.

" _ **It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves." Will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the ball, Lyra?" – Cadmus**_

There it was. She had been anticipating it and almost expecting it, especially after his request to see her. She gathered thoughts, exhaled a deep breath and responded before logic took over and left her heart in the dust.

" _ **This one night we will be mad – dance lightly – raise our hearts as the beat strengthens, grows buoyant – careless, defiant. What matters anything so long as one's step is in time – so long as one's whole body and mind are dancing too – what shall end it?" – Lyra**_

Hermione took the pendant from beneath her jumper and pressed it beneath her fingertips, praying to whatever deity would listen that she had made the right decision and would not regret it.

….

"You said you would go?" Ginny was perched at the foot of her bed as Hermione bustled around their room, brushing her teeth. She gave Ginny a nod, feeling the all too familiar flush rising to her cheeks. She was almost certain her cheeks were permanently blushed.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. You don't even know who he is. He could be anyone! What if you know him? What if it's someone like Malfoy? What if it is Malfoy?" Ginny rambled, watching Hermione pace about the room.

"I'll eat my toothbrush if it's Malfoy." Hermione chuckled, rinsing the minty toothpaste from her mouth out. "I'm 99% certain he's not a Gryffindor. Our lads are brave and all, but they're not the most well-read bunch. He also just doesn't come across as a Hufflepuff." She chose not to disclose to Ginny that she recalled he had been forced to take the mark. In all honestly, he was probably in Slytherin which was a conclusion she came to months ago.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "I guess it doesn't matter. I just hope he doesn't turn out to be a jerk." Suddenly her eyes went wide as she beamed at Hermione. "We get to go SHOPPING! We can go to Hogsmeade this weekend! Maybe Harry and Ron will be able to come up."

"You can't tell them, Gin. Harry and Ron. This isn't something they need to know about, yet." Hermione combed her fingertips through her curls, forcing her unruly locks into a loose braid.

"Your secret is safe with me, Hermione."

"Thanks, Gin. I'm just going to read for a few before bed." She said with a smile towards the caring younger Gryffindor.

Picking up a book, Hermione wandered down to the Gryffindor common room in her dressing robe, taking a seat in the one of the bay windows overlooking the grounds, her fingertips absently grazing over the delicate strings of the lyre sitting at the base of her throat. She looked up into the night sky as though she were studying the stars and looked deep within herself in a feeble attempt to sort out of her feelings before she would face him sooner than later.

" _ **Yours is the light by which my spirit is born: you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars." – Lyra**_

….

Hermione had levitated the set of dress robes that she had purchased from Gladrags in Hogsmeade with her wand and was staring intently at them while Ginny stood behind her, applying various beauty charms in attempt to charm her hair into something other than tempestuous mess.

She had chosen a set of emerald green dress robes with a v-neck lace bodice and sleeves that ended just below her elbows. At the back, billowy green chiffon attached to the top of the bodice and flowed down her back. The A-line satin skirt was overlaid with delicate lace and flowed outward from her hips while sensuously hugging the curve of her waist.

Hermione idly chewed her bottom lip, more out of sheer nerves than any form of contemplation. "How are you going to know who he is?" Ginny asked, smoothing a lock of Hermione's hair with a charm.

"We agreed to meet in the courtyard, just after the first dance."

"Well, that's all fine and dandy, but there could be dozens of people in the courtyard." Ginny pressed, smoothing another lock of Hermione's hair with a swish of her wand.

"We'll manage, Ginny. I don't think I'll be fooled by just anyone."

Ginny giggled, remembering their conversation from the other day. "What if it's Malfoy?" She asked, teasingly.

Hermione smirked, her nerves temporarily overtaken by laughter. "I've already told you, Ginny, if it's Malfoy, I'll eat my toothbrush."

In reality, Hermione wasn't certain what she would do if it turned out that Cadmus was Malfoy. They shared many similarities and perhaps there was something more to Malfoy lurking below the surface. Perhaps she wouldn't mind… not that she would tell Ginny that.

….

Gowned in emerald, hands resting on the ancient stones of the archway, Hermione gazed out over the grounds and gardens. The moon in all of her glory was high and full, bathing the snowy landscape in soft, white light. Though the courtyard had been temporarily charmed with a warming charm, she found herself shivering. Several students were milling about in the courtyard waiting for the ball to begin. Hermione had intentionally come outside before the first dance was set to begin in order to mentally prepare herself for the meeting which was yet to come. Three and a half years had led them to this moment. The ancient stones felt cool against her hands and coupled with the winter air were helping to calm her racing heart as it threated to beat right out of her chest.

A thousand questions were racing through her mind as she stared out onto the grounds which less than a year ago had been littered with the reminders of war.

Draco stepped out of the shadows and leaned against a nearby pillar. His crisp, black suit-like dress robes were tailored with exquisite detailing, hands resting in his pockets.

"Waiting for someone, Granger?" He asked idly, watching his peers move about the courtyard.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Malfoy?" She quipped, keeping her focus on the landscape before her noting that music was now drifting from the Great Hall. The minutes were closing in and she silently talked herself into staying. She was ready for this, but if there was one thing she didn't need tonight, it was cutting remarks from Draco Malfoy. She needed to find a way to make him leave her alone.

"Anyone's better than Weasley and Potter. It's been so much more pleasant around here without those two buffoons causing havoc every other day."

"Shut it, Malfoy. I could do without your vitriol tonight." Hermione hissed, taking in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly. She tried to not let him get to her, but the man knew how to grate on her nerves like no other, despite how he seemed to be more subdued this year than in previous years. Even if he had left her alone more this year than in previous years, his was the last face she wanted to see while she was waiting for the first waltz to end.

"C'mon, Granger." He pushed. "Who is it? Longbottom? Corner? MacMillan?

Hermione kept her focus trained on the landscape in front of her, avoiding his usually cruel glare, though his voice wasn't laced with malice as it usually was. Hermione shook her head and waved her hand dismissively and started quoting Bronte out of habit from her conversations with Cadmus. "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of…"

"…his and mine are the same." He cut her off, finishing the quotation quietly, which nearly stopped Hermione in her tracks, leaving her breathless. Sure, several months ago he had quoted Thoreau to her, but she had completely brushed that aside. Now, here he was quoting Bronte, something wasn't adding up. Or perhaps it was adding up too quickly and she simply didn't want to admit it to herself.

His breath whispered against her ear as his hand covered her own. The scent of his cologne overwhelmed her senses and made her dizzy. Her world only continued to spin as he spoke quietly, his lips feathering against her ear, "I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words which laid the foundation. It is too long ago..."

"…I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun." She finished, her breath barely above a whisper given that all oxygen seemed to have left her lungs at that moment. Hermione turned her head and her eyes found his noting that his normally clouded, cruel eyes were soft, content and no longer troubled as though a great storm had passed and the sun was shining. It was as though she could peer directly into his soul and she found it beautiful and breathtaking.

"You." They breathed in unison. Confirmation. If anyone had asked Hermione and Draco what had happened the moment they both came to the realization of who the other one actually was, they would've said that the world seemed to have stopped spinning in that very moment. Everything simply stopped as though they were the only two people to remain in the world. The cool air crackled with the electricity of their silence as though a lightning bolt had struck nearby.

Her mind was reeling, her heart pounding as she was swept into his arms. Their foreheads met and her arms found their way around him. If there was any one moment in Hermione's life and defined perfection, this would have been that moment. She felt safe and content in the arms of her once enemy and suddenly nothing else mattered. They had bared their souls to one another and she knew him better than he knew himself. It was at that point that Draco and Cadmus melded together in her mind and became one.

His voice was filled with a quiet, anguished, pleading tone as he spoke. "You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever."

A contented smile played on her lips as she whispered against his. "The very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone." She wasn't certain if he pulled her against his chest or if she moved closer on her own, but she was suddenly flush against him as their lips parted in a kiss so gentle and loving, it was more ethereal than real.

When they broke apart, she leaned into him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, resting her head on his chest as her arms encircled his waist. The way he stroked her back with such tenderness and care elicited a happy sigh from her lips. She wanted to live in this moment forever.

"The world will be against us, you know." She felt him murmur against her curls.

"A happy life consists not in the absence, but in the mastery of hardships." Hermione replied, the contented smile still playing on her lips. Their road ahead would be difficult but given everything they had already pushed through, she was confident in them. _Them_. The thought of it made her heart soar.

Draco turned and took her hands in his, his voice soft, pleading, desperate. "Hermione, I am so sorry, for everything that happened between us. Can you ever forgive me?"

Without hesitation, she smiled and peered into his soothing silver eyes, "Draco, I forgave you a long time ago." Hermione squeezed his hands reassuringly and released a bright, clear peal of laughter as a thought crossed her mind.

When she saw the confused look pass over his features at her sudden outburst, she managed to say with a grin, "Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much."

"Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?" He heart soared when she saw how he looked at her when the smile which crossed his lips took his features from something typically sullen and broody to something else altogether. He was gazing down on her with all of the love in the world.

Hermione squeezed his hands in her own and gazed at him with equal fervor. "A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you."

She leaned into him, knowing she was exactly where she belonged, as she felt Draco's lips press against her forehead. "I love you too, Hermione."


End file.
